Home from Home
by Inimeitielwantsacookeh
Summary: Merla never knew her father, and her mother always told her that even she didn't know who he was - Merla took her word for it, and, after her mother died, she knew she'd probably never know either. But when she strolls up to Reaver's mansion in hope of bagging a fortune with her uncanny shooting skills, she may walk away with more than just gold - if she ever walks away at all.


Merla hurried along the path, the strong scent of well-tended flower beds and gardens filling her nostrils; Millfields was not short of fresh plants at any time of the year - not only was it surrounded by rolling countryside and forest, but the rich inhabitants also tended to enjoy keeping lavish gardens which added to the pollenous smell. Of course, none of them cared for the gardens themselves, instead they hired gardeners - sometimes several - to do it for them. The wealth of the inhabitants was also reflected in their houses: almost every single one was large, extravagant and almost shining with splendour.

However, Merla took little notice of the houses and gardens as she strode swiftly down the streets. No, her eyes were set on the biggest and most lavish of them all: Reaver's mansion.

With every step she took, the imposing manor seemed to grow larger: a warning, perhaps, telling her to go back; yet she urged herself on. _Only a few more steps_, she told herself as she climbed the winding, dusty path, _not far at all_. Though it wasn't far to the gates - so what she was telling herself was true - she knew not what she may face beyond them. A lot more than a little path, she guessed; from the rumors she had heard, she couldn't even be sure that she'd make it out alive.

"Hello missy," the bored voice of the guard cut through Merla's thoughts, "thought we'd have a nice little stroll up to Reaver's mansion, did we?"

Merla locked eyes with the guard, realising that she had reached the gates, and before she replied glanced warily up at them. The gleaming metal - she didn't recognise the type - had been expertly crafted into two fanciful sections that towered high above her, at least twice her height, so the delicate swirls of one side were replicated, as if a mirror image, on the other; a line ran between the two majestic sections, indicating where they would split when opened. About halfway down the central line, and the only part of the gate that was not the same golden colour as the metal, lay Reaver's unmistakable seal.

Tearing her eyes away from the somewhat egoistic centerpiece, Merla turned back to the guard.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could speak to him." She said with all the authority she could muster; however, it seemed that it was not enough as as soon as the words had left her lips the guard snorted.

"Well, you can stop wondering, 'cause he's busy," He declared, and turned his interest to his fingernails, which he had been closely inspecting before Merla had arrived.

"What, in bed?" she asked under her breath, rolling her eyes. She had come this far - she didn't want to be sent back by a guard who was programmed to let only the most exclusive guests past; she was determined to finish this now. "We both know he's probably just playing human croquet or whatever he does in his spare time," she paused for a second, musing over what his leisure activities might be, "Anyway, the least you can do is just go up there and tell him there's someone who wants to have a go at his 'Wheel of Misfortune'."

A spasm of what seemed to be shock passed through the guard's face at the last few words, but he quickly composed himself, suddenly more attentive.

"What - but.. you must've heard the rumors! Look, I ain't employed just to go tell him there's some hooligan who wants to have some practical joke. Go now whilst you have the chance." Merla was losing her patience - clearly she wasn't going to be taken seriously. She sighed, wanting to waste no more time, and pulled out her pistol.

"Just go and tell him." She ordered lazily. The guard nodded obediently and scuttled up the path to Reaver's mansion.


End file.
